<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>as close as you can, for as long as it lasts by Scythling</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24258376">as close as you can, for as long as it lasts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scythling/pseuds/Scythling'>Scythling</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Timeless (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Everybody Lives, F/M, Fix-it fic, Fluff, Flynn deserved better, Future Lucy getting shit done, I don't pretend to know shit about Timetravel, Time Travel, Undercover as a Couple, Unresolved Sexual Tension</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:22:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,774</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24258376</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scythling/pseuds/Scythling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It turns out Lucy's decision to save Flynn from dying somehow creates the best possible outcome for not just her, but everyone she loves. But breaking the infinite Rittenhouse time-loop is not entirely without negative consequences....</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Garcia Flynn/Lucy Preston, Jessica Logan &amp; Wyatt Logan, Rufus Carlin/Jiya</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Flynn really did deserve better. The lack of Titanic episode I WILL die mad about. But dude, the journal got me thinking...<br/>Don't @ me for how time travel works. I've watched Interstellar and Terminator a million times, I'm good.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>Lucy is trying her best to feign interest in the campfire small talk, but she’s too caught up in mentally dissecting Wyatt’s discovery about Jessica and Rufus to really commit to any conversation.</p><p>Adding to her distraction, Joaquin Murrieta is speaking in low tones to Garcia Flynn while looking at her and attempting to be subtle about it. No, that certainly isn’t helping.</p><p>They’ve mostly stopped worrying about leaving Flynn alone with important historical figures, but she’s been risking quick glances at him all night, most of which he’s caught with a small quirk of his lips.</p><p>These stolen looks and private smiles have kind of become her fix… It’s not a new development, she will admit, but Lucy can’t help but seek him out in the dancing firelight. Tall, dark, and handsome; it’s an unforgivable cliché, but he really is quite striking. She feels free to admit that now that they’ve stopped trying to kill each other.</p><p>Thinking back to their initial tensions, it astounds her now that he’s become someone she trusts and seeks out for company. And lately, she’s been noticing a thrilling kind of nervous energy behind their interactions on missions, and around the bunker.</p><p><em>Like static before a storm,</em> she remarks with delight before remembering she’s meant to be cautious. A similar situation had soured things with Wyatt and now they can barely even look at each other.</p><p>Flynn’s earlier admittance of their ill-fated future is also something to consider, and she shakes off the idea of her life belonging to fate.</p><p><em>Apparently, I end up leaving him for Wyatt</em>.</p><p>Lucy shivers with unease at the memory of the stoic, hard-edged man that had been future Wyatt. Was all that bitterness really what they’d become? Was it terrible of her to want something more? Or did meeting their future selves erase that outcome?</p><p>She pokes idly at the fire, all too aware of the irony that the very ideals she had once taken comfort in she now rebels against. Perceiving history as though written in stone, like dried ink on a page. She’d once seen each pivotal event as fixed points that would always happen, in one way or another, no matter what efforts you took to change things. </p><p><em>No</em>, Lucy affirms to herself, chanting it like a mantra. <em>No. It feels too much like the car crash.</em> <em>Too much like an uncontrollable fate. I’ve led suffragettes to protest and written speeches that birthed revolutions... I’ve proven that history can be re-written.</em></p><p>The future version of Wyatt and herself travelling to their timeline had certainly complicated her understanding of time travel. And then there was the journal – the one that had spoilt the mood earlier when Wyatt had figured it was telling him he had to kill his wife. If only she’d read that part in the other… <em>Oh. </em></p><p>Lucy gasps so softly it goes unheard amongst the chatting around the fire.</p><p>Heart fluttering from the sudden burst of adrenaline, Lucy stands much too quickly, drawing everyone’s gaze as she throws off her blanket and reaches for her pack. Wyatt’s head whips around on high alert, as does Flynn’s, and Jiya tenses until she calms them.</p><p>‘Sorry… nature calls.’ </p><p>Fighting to maintain a casual walking pace, Lucy crosses the clearing and heads deeper into the woods. She feels both Wyatt and Flynn’s sentry gazes on her the entire way until she ducks behind a tree, she pulls out her compact Swiss army knife. An early Christmas gift from Wyatt, she can’t deny its usefulness as she focuses the mini torch on the contents of her bag.</p><p>There, amongst other travel paraphernalia, is the new journal. But still in its zipped compartment is the original. </p><p>Lucy takes both in each shaking hand, examining first the new, less faded journal given to her by her future self. There had been precious little time to read it before heading on the mission, so she’d been forced to throw it in her pack without even checking if it had replaced the old journal Flynn had given her, moments before his arrest. Somehow, it hadn’t. </p><p>At the thought of Flynn, her cheeks flush as she recalls the last entry she’d read: her future-self’s blossoming romance with him while on the Titanic; an event yet to – if ever – come to pass in her present timeline.</p><p>She furiously flicks through both journals until she finds the same entry, and stares in awe at the duplicate accounts. Bar a few tiny details, they were the same account of her falling in love with Flynn.</p><p>
  <em>‘I felt it in the way he took me in his arms, the same arms I used to run from -- but not anymore. That night, I felt safe, and protected and loved...’</em>
</p><p>Free from Wyatt’s judgement, she doesn’t have to hide her genuine reaction, and Lucy struggles to swallow the conflicting emotions that almost choke her with their intensity, suddenly thankful for the hindsight to have read them alone.</p><p>For weeks now, she’s endured both the constant sting of being Wyatt’s discarded lover and the weight of hiding it, all while dealing with the confusion of enjoying the company of a former enemy. </p><p>Lucy can’t deny wanting to be wanted. She feels no shame in longing for a trip that may never come to pass, for Flynn to hold her close in the shadow of that sinking ship, just as he’d done in Chinatown when she’d fallen apart in his arms… </p><p>What she <em>doesn’t </em>want is the future heartbreak between them that he insists is inevitable. </p><p>Did two matching accounts mean it was as good as certain to happen? Why was the entry in Flynn’s journal a little over half-way in, and in the newer version, it is just a few pages from the end?</p><p>‘Focus now…Think about… Think about the facts.’ Lucy soothes herself, breathing in the warm night air to calm and refocus her attention on the differences between the two journals. There had to be more here she wasn’t seeing. What Flynn said about their eventual split perhaps might not be the same in the new journal. Maybe it wasn’t written in stone.</p><p>She flicks a few pages ahead, searching for something, anything mentioning Flynn, Rufus, or 1848. She finds it on the last two written pages before a sea of blank pages. </p><p>
  <em> ‘If you’re reading this, you have diverted from the paths we have always taken before. You have made a new choice and proven that time is not quite what we thought it was. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rufus would probably explain it better than I ever could, but he’s not alive in this timeline. However, we can change that in yours. Change things for the better. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>You are at a crossroads. In some timelines, you never pick up the journal again until you hand it back to Flynn. This time you have the choice not to blindly choose your future, because we can write it together.’</em>
</p><p>Mind whirling with possibilities and questions, Lucy steadies herself against the tree before reading on.</p><p>
  <em>‘As you may have started to figure out, it’s probability-based causation, not unbending fate as we once thought, that ensures Rufus dies in the timelines where Jessica is brought back by Rittenhouse. But only when following linear rules of time within your own timeline. There has to be a way to get back what we lost. To make things right and save the people we love, no matter what.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I travelled to your past to tell you that we can break the rules, and in doing so, have created an alternate timeline for us to do something that <strong>should</strong> be impossible. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>We are going to rewrite the best possible history and future that we can. As Flynn always said, these journals are not 100% accurate, because in some way, we diverge in our choices each time, but know this:</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In 1848, Wyatt and Flynn… both come to the same conclusion about the time-loop between Jessica and Rufus – but they don’t think outside the box enough in order to save both… or themselves. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Depending on the choices you have made, one of them will try to go back in time to kill Jessica and restore Rufus to your timeline. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>If you choose this new path, go after them.’</em>
</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Wasting little time, Lucy runs back to camp, startling a pacing Wyatt into catching her by her shoulders. His embrace holds little comfort when she can’t see Flynn anywhere.</p><p>‘Lucy! I was seconds away from going looking for you…’ Wyatt frowns in confusion as she tears from his arms, her eyes darting around the camp. </p><p>‘It’s fine I…Wyatt… where’s Flynn?’ </p><p>She winces at the subtle note of panic in her voice and how Wyatt’s expression turns stormy in response. She reads his hurt look and sets her jaw in response. Let him think what he damn well likes.</p><p>‘Tending the horses with Murrieta.’ He mumbles before resuming his stoking of the fire. </p><p>Heart still hammering in her ears, Lucy walks further downwind toward Joaquin’s camp at the treeline. </p><p>A few of the men point and crack jokes as she approaches, and her stomach drops when she cannot spot Flynn amongst them. Joaquin straightens to full height, his voice solemn as he confirms her fears.</p><p>‘He rode ahead. Said he wanted to scout the mill.’ </p><p><em>Bullshit,</em> Lucy thinks darkly while looking at the horses, wondering how much of a lead he has on her back to the Lifeboat.</p><p>‘He also said that if you came looking, to tell you he had to go. To stop you taking the risk.’ Murrieta gives a curious smile to her stricken expression.</p><p>She knows she should say something in response, but she can’t stop replaying in her mind the last thing he’d said to her hours earlier:</p><p>
  <em>‘Sounds like a noble plan, but if you all die trying to save Rufus, who’ll be left here to save the world from Rittenhouse?’ </em>
</p><p>Lucy swears colourfully under her breath, silently praying that her reading the journal hadn’t somehow set in motion his decision to leave.</p><p>‘I don’t know what all this is about, but he left minutes ago. You could catch him, if you ride like the wind.’ He leads her to a black horse she recognises as his.</p><p>‘<em>Tornado</em>?’ Lucy smiles gratefully, as she steadies the saddle. Murrieta nods.</p><p>‘And I’ll want him back too, or your friends will pay with their lives.’ He laughs, slapping the horse’s rump and all Lucy can do is hang on as he launches into an enthusiastic canter.</p><p>Steering him along the river and towards the trail to the lifeboat, she even chances a few kicks to urge a gallop once they make the trail. She can’t afford to miss Flynn’s jump.</p><p>After riding for what seems like hours, Lucy tries to focus her mind on picking out landmarks in the darkness, all the while repeating the advice of Houdini to stop the fear from taking over. </p><p>
  <em>‘You are going to find him. You are going to chastise his self-sacrificing ass, and then you’re going to talk about whatever it is that’s happening between you… God, why does my inner monologue sound like Rufus…’</em>
</p><p>A twinge of pain flickers in her heart for her fallen friend, but she steels herself, trusting the journal’s wisdom.</p><p>When the jagged ridges of cliff formations set against the night sky begin to look familiar, she thinks she’s made it, until she hears the familiar rumble of the Lifeboat start-up sequence from further up the trail.</p><p>‘No! Flynn!’ She urges Tornado closer, but the horse comes to a sliding stop, fearfully skittering and rearing as the now whirring time machine reaches full power –</p><p>‘FLYNN!’ </p><p>– and vanishes. </p><p>Lucy slides off Tornado, hitting the ground so hard that her legs buckle, bringing her to her knees. </p><p>Winded and with no energy to stand, she stares listlessly at the spot of swaying grass where the Lifeboat had been just moments before. </p><p>She had failed to stop Flynn’s suicide mission to go back in time to kill Jessica. He was gone.</p><p>There’s just the snorting of the horse, her ragged breath, and the wind in the leaves until a voice she recognises as her own punches through her shocked silence. </p><p>‘Better move it if you want to catch him!’ </p><p>Lucy drags herself to her feet and spots not the shorthaired version of herself from 2023, but an even older version of herself waiting at the tree line. Beyond her, she can just make out the orb-like shadow of the Lifeboat.</p><p>Running towards her smiling future self, Lucy is allowed mere seconds to take in the grey streaks and crow’s feet before she’s waved off.</p><p>‘Go! You need to stop him from killing Jessica. The other us you’ve already met is taking care of that timeline.’</p><p>‘What? I don’t understand! How-’ Yet another journal is literally thrown at her.</p><p>‘There are all your answers. Now go! It’s all set with autopilot…’ The older Lucy waves her up the steps of the upgraded lifeboat, hissing as the damaging effects of timeline paradox begin to take hold. </p><p>‘I..thank you for this.’ Lucy nods, strapping in as the time machine powers up. </p><p>‘Don’t thank me, this was all your idea.’ She winked, and Lucy was struck by the differences between the other self she’d met in the bunker and this older, wiser self. </p><p>‘Thank <em>you</em> for choosing to save him. Now be quick about it, I’m not meant to die in 1848. Jiya said so.’ </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>February 11, 2012</em>
</p><p> </p><p>‘Jessica! I’m sorry alright? Just get back in the car...’</p><p>Crippling nausea hits like a physical blow leaving Garcia Flynn bent double on the roadside.</p><p>They’re taking longer than he’d like to wrap this little domestic up. Looking back over his shoulder at the embankment concealing the Lifeboat, he’s trapped in a moment of indecision as his migraine worsens. </p><p><em>‘</em>Still not ready to choose, you selfish bastard,’ he groans to himself. Whether to send the lifeboat back now or wait until after dispatching Jessica to decide whether he lives or dies.</p><p><em>It’s all the same</em>, he reasons in bursts between the flashes of pain, staggering closer to the scene of the crime minutes away from happening. </p><p>
  <em>See your family for the last time? Or go back to eventually lose Lucy? Either way, you’re left alone with no one. No matter what you do, or where you go, it ends the same. Might as well stay.</em>
</p><p>‘Leave me alone Wyatt before I call the cops…’</p><p>‘Ahh, shit…’ He hisses, jaw clenching as the unmistakable shaking of the ground and familiar burst of air pressure hits him from behind. The hand holding his gun spasms from fatigue, but as soon as the second time machine appears out of the air, his resolve strengthens.</p><p>Only, it’s not the mothership standing beside his vessel, but its twin. </p><p>
  <em>This must be Rittenhouse. It has to be. </em>
</p><p>He cries out as shards of pain flash like lightning across his eyes. Flynn curses the fact he’s going to die staggering like a drunk and all without finishing the mission –</p><p>
  <em>…They’re not arguing…</em>
</p><p>He spins around, gun raised, to find a completely empty road. No car, no Wyatt, no Jessica. The shock makes him list sideways and then backwards until he loses the last of his equilibrium, falling heavily on his injured arm. </p><p>The door to the lifeboat opens, and he can’t see a thing as his vision blurs. Scrambling to find his gun, he panics when a hand comes to rest on his face.</p><p>‘Flynn…’</p><p>God, he’d know that voice anywhere. He had to be dead then. But where was Lorena, Iris…</p><p>He’s being lifted upright, and even though he feels heavy and hard to move, he could almost be floating. </p><p>There’s the deafening hum of the time machine powering up again, and Flynn’s not sure what the hell is happening in his half-delirious state. </p><p>‘Flynn, c’mon…Help me get you home.’</p><p>‘Lucy?’</p><p>Hallucination or not, he lets himself be guided to his feet, leaning into a much smaller, warmer body. Up ahead is a very bright light. Never a good sign, but he came here to die, after all.</p><p>‘Climb up here…’ Lucy tells him, and he does. He trusts Lucy, has always followed every word she’s ever written. Flynn does not think it odd that she’s leading him, even in death, as he’s enveloped by the light…</p><p>With a start, his eyes regain focus, and all he can see is Lucy frantically buckling him into the Lifeboat. She’s wide-eyed and sweaty, still in her ridiculous cowboy attire that smells like horse. This is what tips him off that it’s really her, and he’s moving before he can even stop himself.</p><p>Their faces bump as he seeks her lips, straining against his seat belt, his shaking hands guide her to him and they meet in a brief, gasping kiss as the timeline sickness begins to affect her too. She mashes the auto-pilot launch sequence, and buckles herself in.</p><p>He realises he must look particularly dazed, because she offers him an apologetic smile.</p><p>‘I’ll explain everything when we land.’</p><p>As the machine begins to warp back to 1848, he doesn’t bother asking how she’s achieved the impossible. He’s not surprised. This woman would shake apart the fabric of time and space in order to make things right.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lucy opens the journal to the first page and holds it between them to read. </p><p>‘I hope you were able to save him. You should know, in the timelines like mine where you and Flynn were already together, it’s Wyatt who goes.'</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>The time-machine returns them to a completely unchanged looking 1848, and their two horses wait tethered to a fallen tree.</p><p>Lucy isn’t surprised by the absence of her future self who, with any luck, was already home thanks to the time machine she’d sent back first.</p><p>Helping Flynn out of their own lifeboat proves more of a challenge than getting him in, but they take their time, and then sit wordlessly in the grass listening to the owl calls echoing around the valley.</p><p>The peaceful moment sadly doesn’t last long as Flynn’s suddenly groaning, his body still fighting the side-effects of crossing timelines.</p><p>‘Flynn, are you going to be okay?’ Lucy reaches for his uninjured arm in case he tips over, and whether it’s the banality of the question or just because he was glad to still be alive, Flynn laughs. His deep mirthful sound carries through her coaxing her to smile back.</p><p>‘I’ll live, probably, thanks to you.’ He reaches over to pull her against his side, and Lucy is more than happy to comply, slinging an arm around him too. She’d had an excuse already prepared; that with a clear sky, the temperature had dropped, and they were sorely missing the warmth of a campfire.</p><p>‘I shouldn’t be surprised that this happened. I mean, you’re making a habit of appearing out of thin air to offer me salvation.’</p><p>His voice waivers, and somehow, she knows his mind is back in the bar in São Paulo.</p><p>‘I’m surprised it actually worked. And, for the record, stop implying you’re not worth saving, because after all you’ve given up to stop Rittenhouse, you deserve to be saved.’ Lucy nudges him gently, ignoring his grimace of disagreement.</p><p>‘Hmm. There are several prominent, <em>dead,</em> historical figures that would argue I don’t. But I’m curious. How… Wait. No spoilers, I want to guess.’ He teases, seemingly emboldened by her closeness.</p><p><em>He’s recovering,</em> she thinks with relief, though the trembling of his body against hers reminds her he’s not out of the woods yet.  With little she can do about his symptoms, Lucy allows herself to bask in the giddy victory of having saved Flynn, until he breaks their embrace to lean back and look at her.</p><p>She can’t stop the heat from rising to her cheeks when he turns such an intense look of interest on her; warm regard with touch of something between awe and perplexity.</p><p>‘You changed something.’ He says, still breathless from exertion but glad to have surmised the truth, which Lucy confirms with a nod. ‘I don’t know what, but it has to be something you, or the other you, did.’</p><p>‘I guess you could say I helped myself.’ With a conspiratorial smile, she reveals her newest journal – thankfully very distinguishable from the others by its sleek silver hardback cover.</p><p>‘It was a different version of me than the one we met before. She, I, was much older. Smiled more. She said it was all my idea, just because I’d decided to do something they had never done.’</p><p>She looks up to see Flynn incline his head for her to continue.</p><p>‘I remembered that you had given me your journal, and it turns out, the new one didn’t replace the one you’d given me. Some entries were near the same in both, but not entirely. I wanted to see if… if things could be changed.’</p><p>‘Oh? And what were those things?’ Flynn muses wryly, prompting her with a quirk of a supremely arched brow. How he has the energy for such games, she has no idea.</p><p>‘Everything that could be fixed. Rufus, Rittenhouse, Jessica… our future – or potential future if you, if we, wanted...’ Lucy finally breathes. ‘Anyway, I found a way to do it.’</p><p>She’s not surprised the confession had come so easily. There was something about Flynn that, despite his enigma and riddles, had always been open to her. She sees it now in the way his eyes soften at hearing that.</p><p>‘I’m so very grateful to hear that.’ he says, voice so low and heavy with affection that it moves her too. When Flynn doesn’t say anything else, she worries it may have been too much for him to hear right now. Everything was a little too much, too soon for all of them lately, and he’d never made any secret of the fact he had been trying to get his family back… But before her mind can settle in these worries, Flynn clears the lump in his throat.</p><p>‘As for us, I’d like for us to have a little talk when we’re back safe in our own time?’ At her single nod, he relaxes.</p><p>‘Now, you say you helped yourself, but how did you- <em>they</em> know to come here and help?’</p><p>Patting the journals within her pack, Lucy explains as best she can.</p><p>‘There was a note in the new journal – I think it was left for me so that if I made the choice, if I wanted to change the outcomes, then my future selves would help me… They also said that the version of me we had already met was taking care of the Rufus/Jessica timeline, so maybe, Rufus is <em>alive </em>now.’</p><p>Flynn’s eyes widen in realisation. ‘So that explains why Jessica and Wyatt vanished before I could take her out!’</p><p>‘They both vanished?’ <em>That doesn’t sound good.</em></p><p>‘Maybe there’s some explanation in the journal?’</p><p>It was their only window into another potential future and the timeline they were currently in. In Flynn’s experience, there was always something useful in her entries, even if it didn’t immediately make sense.</p><p>Lucy opens the journal to the first page and holds it between them to read.</p><p>
  <em>‘I hope you were able to save him. You should know, in the timelines like mine where you and Flynn were already together, it’s Wyatt who goes.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Don’t fret. We’ve broken the cycle – this I will explain further - but while you were in 2012, the other us and her Wyatt travelled back to 1980 when Rittenhouse first interfered with Jessica’s timeline. The plan was to kill Emma, and our Mother. If they have been successful, the Rittenhouse link between Rufus and Jessica has been erased.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Both should be alive, but the Rufus in my timeline wants you to know even his math isn’t perfect. Whatever is waiting for you in 1848, know that we all tried our best. If we were successful, I think it’s safer not to tell the others. At least not yet. The sleeper agent you’re looking for? You can leave him be if you wish, he’ll never be able to return to his own time.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I wish you all good health. Tell Flynn not to stoop so much because his back never forgives him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jiya would also like me to tell you that, apparently, this is all very similar to the plot of the Star Trek (2009) movie. There’s a time-travel plot, and Spock addresses his younger self... If you haven’t seen it, well neither have I. Maybe we better change that too. – Lucy Flynn, 2037.’</em>
</p><p>Lucy continues to stare at the pages, smiling despite the turbulent emotions welling up inside her.</p><p>This version of her was fifty-four and married to Flynn. Wyatt had died to save Rufus, after going back in time to become his own wife’s killer… They had to hope this had worked.</p><p>‘Wow…’ Flynn whistles. ‘You’ve been busy!’</p><p>‘Yeah, and I better not have screwed this up for them… If you’re good to go, we should head back and find out.’  She grabs her pack and gets to her feet to help Flynn do the same.</p><p>It’s no easy task, getting all six-foot something of him upright, but she’s rewarded when she does and he pulls her close against him, looking down into her eyes with such warmth, she barely feels the chill of the night.</p><p>Flynn’s head dips a little, but he doesn’t make a move to kiss her.</p><p><em>Like he’s giving me the choice, </em>she realises, nervous energy returning in full, and to her horror, she begins rapidly talking.</p><p>‘I know I didn’t ask you, or any of them if this is what they wanted, and that was wrong… The truth is, I don’t know how many other things my future selves changed when they went back. I don’t know who will be waiting at camp, and who won’t be.’</p><p>Flynn’s good hand reaches for her face, and her guilt is quickly swept away with a swipe of his thumb across her cheek.</p><p>‘Lucy,’ he utters her name like it’s an act of reverence. ‘Regardless of what’s waiting for us back there, I want you to know, I’m happy you came back for me. And I’m happy you made a choice for yourself; God knows we don’t get to make many of those anymore.’</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  *</p><p> </p><p>The ride back to camp seems to go quicker despite the lesser pace, and as the distant campfire smoke grows nearer, they talk western history between galloping stints.</p><p>Lucy is pleased to discover Flynn shares her sentiments about the Hollywood effect on the cowboy film genre.</p><p>‘You know, having met <em>The Lone Ranger</em> in person, it really drove home how twisted things get compared to what really happened.’ Lucy taunts, and from Flynn’s sheepish look, she knows he’s remembering the Jesse James half of that story.</p><p>‘History isn’t infallible to mistakes and neither are we.’ He retorts as he takes the lead, forging a path through the trees.</p><p>Dodging a low hanging branch, Lucy scoffs at him.</p><p>‘I would call giving Jesse James a <em>machine gun</em> something a little more than just a mistake.’ She calls after him and they both laugh, proving how much really had become water under the bridge between them.</p><p> ‘God, imagine if that had made it into the history books – outlaws with machine guns…’ Lucy yawns, almost too tired to keep up with their conversation.</p><p>‘Well, it might have livened up some of the later John Wayne films….’ Flynn muses with a grin, very much enjoying their playful banter.</p><p>After multiple reads of Lucy’s journal, he knows this soft spot of hers, and he’s finally glad of the chance to drop in a reference.</p><p>Predictably, she pipes up, ‘Oh? Not a fan of the classics?’</p><p>‘I’ve enjoyed a few on occasion,’ Flynn decides to stick with the truth. ‘<em>The Searchers, Rio Bravo</em>, and would you kill me if I said <em>The Alamo</em>?’ He peaks over his shoulder to confirm her death glare.</p><p>‘I’ll give you the first two, though I think you’ve forever spoilt the last one for me.’ She says, only a little frostily. ‘But Rio Bravo is one of my favourites. I haven’t seen it in years…’</p><p><em>With Amy and Mom</em>, remains unspoken. The woods are dark and creepy enough without bringing up ghosts.</p><p>‘Then we should watch it sometime.’ Flynn offers after sensing her disquiet. ‘I know the bunker doesn’t exactly have cable, but Jiya’s a good kid; she’ll figure something out –’</p><p>‘Flynn,’ Lucy calls sharply, pointing to their left where the glow of two campfires flashed between the trees. From their position, Joaquin’s camp is nearest, and she easily spots him as he stands, turning towards their direction.  ‘Think they’ve heard us.’</p><p>‘So, what’s the plan if… things are changed?’ Flynn whispers as Joaquin begins walking over.</p><p>Lucy worries her bottom lip nervously as they reach the edge of the clearing.</p><p>‘Wait until we read more of the journal before revealing anything. Until then, we play it by ear.’ She whispers back, before swinging out of the saddle. She comes up alongside Tornado, giving him a well-deserved pat.</p><p>There’s every chance that in this timeline, they could have met Murrieta under different circumstances, so she keeps her guard up as he approaches. He thankfully offers her a smile after looking first to his horse and then between the two of them.</p><p>‘Told you he’s like the wind.’ He gives her a wink before taking Tornado’s reins from her. Once satisfied with his horse’s condition, he turns his attention on Flynn, who is being steadied by Lucy as he stiffly dismounts.</p><p>‘You’ve a good woman there.’ He nods to Lucy who reddens under the not quite correct assumption. ‘Smart one too to not let you go off getting killed. They’d have shot you on sight if you’d been seen loitering around the mill at night.’</p><p>‘Oh, I know it. Thanks for the concern.’ Flynn bids Murrieta goodnight and subtly draws Lucy closer as he guides her in the direction of their camp.</p><p>Lucy lets Flynn lead, too busy praying to whatever higher powers exist that she hadn’t somehow made a bad situation worse.</p><p>Her stomach drops at the sight of the two familiar blanketed figures around the fire, looking for all the world unchanged, that is, until Rufus’ incredulous tone breaks the silence.</p><p>‘I almost wanna ask what took you guys nearly three hours in the woods. But then again… I’d rather not!’</p><p>Rufus props himself up on one elbow, smiling his warm, wonderful smile that she’d been missing so dearly, that Lucy nearly loses all composure.</p><p>‘Rufus! I can’t believe…’ Lucy’s astounded. Relieved beyond words that he’s back, alive and well. But out of context, she must have looked and sounded affronted because there’s a scandalised giggle from Jiya, lying curled up beside Rufus under the blanket.</p><p>‘Rufus, you can’t just ask couples if they just screwed!’</p><p>‘I’m still betting they went back in the Lifeboat for some condoms,’ Jessica’s retort makes Lucy whirl around on the spot, and she fails to hide the shock of seeing Wyatt and Jessica sharing a blanket. Of all the changes she’d hoped for and expected, this hadn’t been one of them.</p><p>
  <em>Surely if she’s here, this means she’s not Rittenhouse. Or maybe they hadn’t found her out yet…</em>
</p><p>‘Thanks for the mental image. So long as it wasn’t in the driver’s seat…’ Rufus’ face scrunches with mock distaste while Wyatt rolls his eyes at them.</p><p>‘Honestly guys, this is nowhere near as bad as the time you desecrated the sofa… But as you made us wait up, it’s your turn to keep watch.’</p><p>At this, Lucy meets Flynn’s gaze, wordlessly confirming their suspicions about the new timeline, with one thought far louder than the others.</p><p>
  <em>In this reality, we were a couple.</em>
</p><p>Lucy’s mind is struggling to suggest an appropriate course of action but thankfully Flynn still has the mental faculties required to play along, and he winks at her as his hand slides from arm to rest low on her hip.</p><p>‘Looks like the game’s up, love.’ He says, lips twitching into that roguish smile of his that’s devastatingly charming when used on her.</p><p>They skirt around the fire to the spot Lucy had occupied before and find two blankets, one a groundsheet, and the other to share.</p><p>‘You sleep, I’ll tend the fire.’ Flynn assures her with a gentle look.</p><p>However, Lucy pulls a face at the idea of him staying up all night sat in the dirt. After what he’d been through, she knows he needs rest more than she does.</p><p>With the others still awake and so close by, she's unable to break her cover, but she'll be damned if she lets Flynn pull the self-sacrifice tactics again.</p><p>‘<em>Love</em>, you can keep me warm <em>and</em> watch the fire.’ She throws him her most demanding look, stubborn chin lifted. After throwing one more log on the fire, Flynn's body heaves with an over-dramatic sigh before he comes to kneel beside her.</p><p>Lifting the blanket to admit him, she’s suddenly struck by the intimacy they’re about to share and it colours her cheeks far more than the fire can ever take credit for. Far more than drunkenly borrowing his bed, this time, something monumental had passed between them. A secret only they knew, for now. </p><p>Folding their packs into a pillow for him to lean on, Lucy waits for him to settle before boldly lying beside him, as his good arm comes to rest around her.</p><p>She subtly breathes in, and under all the horse and smoke, there’s the delicious musky scent, like aftershave and spice, that is Flynn. After waking up in his bed a few weeks back, it had clung to her skin like a pleasant reminder for a whole day. She’d been loathed to wash it off.</p><p>Lucy tries and fails to convince herself that her noticeably contented sigh is from the simple pleasure of sharing another person’s body heat, and not because cuddling up with Flynn is fulfilling some deeper emotional need.</p><p>‘<em>Happy now?’</em> He whispers into the hair by her ear. Despite her fatigue, she can’t help playfully responding.</p><p>‘When I get my way, yes.’ She pats at him as if he were a pillow before nestling closer, under the comfy crook of his arm, head on his chest.</p><p>Flynn’s pleased answering hum reverberates through her body.</p><p><em>‘That convincing glare of yours needs some work,’</em> He’s whispering again, and she can tell from his tone of voice, and the feel of his lips brushing the top of her head that he’s smiling. </p><p>‘<em>But if this is what you have in mind, then I don’t need asking twice.’</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I know this isn't exactly the Only One Bed trope but goddamn it, it's coming, I promise.<br/>Also, Jiya loving Star Trek is such a blessing, I had to throw this in somewhere.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!<br/>I have a regular updating schedule so hope to have this completed real soon :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>